Talk of a UK hip-hop renaissance is a tradition unhindered by the persistent non-appearance of a major breakthrough. If only we could clone Londoner Roots Manuva, aka Rodney Smith, the only homegrown MC willing and able to reimagine the genre from the ground up. It helps that he has the kind of imperious voice that could lend biblical gravitas to a Harvester menu, but it's what he does with it that counts. On this breathtaking sophomore effort, Smith's bzyantine lyrics wind from south-London street tales to Afronaut stargazing with ease. Witness (One Hope) grounds Jamaican righteousness in a very English reality of cheese on toast and bitter, while Sinny Sin Sin builds from memories of his preacher father to a moving crisis of faith. With the dancehall-derived music matching the rhymes for innovation, Run Come Save Me doesn't require you to make patriotic allowances. It's simply the best hip-hop album since OutKast's Stankonia.Dorian Lynskey

Ike Turner and the Kings of Rhythm Here and Now (Ikon Records) ***** £12.99

Typecast as the bad guy of rhythm and blues, Ike Turner nonetheless deserves credit as one of the grittiest pioneers of the genre. Here and Now explains why: it gallops out of the speakers with Turner going ballistic on guitar, piano and vocals, and it's astounding how much wallop he packs into his primitive blues and R&B. The opener, Tore Up, threatens to blow the studio apart and instantly establishes the disc's raw feel. Over the steaming groove of Catfish Blues, Ike sings as if he's been steeped in thousand-year-old rye whiskey, while on Ike's Theme he sounds as if he's trying to rip the strings off his Fender. Awesome.Adam Sweeting

Various Artists The Front Line Box Set (Virgin, 4 CDs) **** £29.99

Reggae was in an invidious position in mid-1970s Britain. Long-term Jamaican artists such as John Holt and Dennis Brown were regarded as novelty singles hitmakers; even Island popularised only Bob Marley rather than reggae itself. Virgin tried to usurp Island with their Front Line imprint, but still commercial success remained elusive. In February 1978, Althea and Donna toppled Mull of Kintyre from the number-one slot with the patois-heavy Uptown Top Ranking, but it is the only hit among this set's 86 tracks. Yet in every other aspect, Front Line was a roaring success. It offered the cream of several generations - the Gladiators, Gregory Isaacs, U-Roy and a slew of others - their first crack at a western market. Back in Kingston, competition for Front Line deals pushed the music forward in leaps and bounds. And its blunderbuss but high-quality release schedule planted reggae into British culture, where it has remained ever since.

There are remarkable individual tracks: the bass on U-Roy's Chalice in the Palace is inhumanly masculine and Keith Hudson's Civilisation is evidence of a supreme lost talent. Cumulatively, although The Front Line is too narrow a snapshot in time to rival Island's Tougher Than Tough, it is a wondrous treasure trove. John Aizlewood